Saving Me
by horsesontherun
Summary: A girl named Beth age 15, has a drunk as a father and her best friend Michel age 17, wants to reach out and save her. Will he save her or is it too late?


Chapter 1

When I walked through the door of our trailer, the scent of alcohol was overpowering. When I took a single breath it burned my lungs and I had to balance myself against the door frame to keep from passing out. I slowly walked through the door to see our newly bought trailer cluttered with empty bottles. The fridge door was wide open letting in a chill of cool air. "Dammit." I mumbled as I approached the kitchen. My dad's home from his "Business trip." That's what he calls them, Even though he doesn't even have a job anymore, after he got fired from his last one. He can't hold a steady job for more than two or three months. The last one he had, he worked for a cleaning supply company bottling window cleaner. Now, all he does is drink up all our money my mother makes working at the good will donation center. I hear the heavy snoring of my father on the couch. I walk over to the back of the couch and look over to find my dad sprawled out, with one leg hanging off the edge, hugging an unopened bottle of Jack Daniels. "That's sad" I whisper to myself, as I walked back to the kitchen to grab my phone I left at home to charge when I left for school. I see it unplugged and turned on. I knew he would go through my messages; I have no privacy once so ever when it comes to my dad, and I know after he wakes up from his beauty sleep, he's going to bombard me with abrasive questions that are private. I have to answer them though; if I don't it'll be hell. I stand there for a few seconds and think about what he's going to do when my mom gets home. I push the thoughts aside and quickly retreat to my room. I gather my bag full of necessities, my journal, pens, water, snacks and my IPod. I could never live without my music, as I exit my room I still see my dad lying there on the couch. "You sicken me." I hear myself say. In my mind, I think of ways to get back at him, revenge. I promised myself long ago when he gave me a nasty black eye, that I wouldn't let him get away with this. He would pay for what he's done to my mom and me. As I pull out from my trance, I hear a car pull up. Michel, thank god, he's here to pick me up so we can go volunteer at the animal shelter. I run out the door and breathe a sigh of relief when I see his red Chevy pickup truck parked in my drive way. I love his old truck, even though he thinks it's a piece of junk. It has a dent in the passenger side door the size of a soccer ball and a crack in the windshield coming from the top and reaching the bottom. It also smells like a combination of brunt popcorn and wet dog, but to me it smells like safety. When I'm in his truck, I know nothing can hurt me, not my dad, my mom, nothing. He rolled down the window and said hop in. I through open the door and quickly buckled up. "What's the hurry?" Michel asked with a slight hint of concern on his face. "Oh nothing." I lied, because there was something. I just turned away, leaned my head against the cool glass and closed my eyes. He placed the key into the ignition, but he still didn't turn on the truck. I looked up at him after a minute "What are you doing?" I said. He turned and looked at me with those deep, beautiful brow eyes of his that always hypnotized me when I look into them. "Beth, Please tell me what wrong." He asked in a voice that sounded like a soothing lullaby. "Why do you think there's something wrong?" I replied with a bitter tone. All he did was roll his eyes and said "Fine, don't tell me." It was kind of shocking to hear him ask me that question. He's never asked me that before, did I really look that worked up. I looked down at my hands to see them shaking violently and I quickly covered them with my bag, as I looked back up at him I found him staring at my hands that were still shaking. He looked up at me with worry and just said "You're a bad liar." He started up the car and turned it to my favorite radio station 92.9; they were playing some Miranda Lambert "The house that built me". I just leaned back into the seat and tried to relax, after a minute or two of controlled breathing, I stopped shaking and just listened to the music, and fell asleep.


End file.
